Family Matters
by krystal-dust
Summary: I was living a life of pure American Royalty, or at least as close as you could get to it. Then there was the Spring Break party with underage drinking that got most of the freshman class in deep shit. Mom won the battle against dad for my full custody, & now I have to move to Japan & live with her new husband, my bitchy big sister & my new idiot stepbrother. Great. Just great...
1. Chapter 1

**As always, I must start my fics with a chapter or two of the whole backstory bs before there is any interaction with canon characters. Please bear with me though! Hope you enjoy!**

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><p>"Halfway through the second semester and you're still making the same mistakes Miss Marx," Ms. Carter scolds through grit teeth as she slaps my essay face down on my desk.<p>

I groan and roll my eyes as I glance down at it.

I mean. What's the point of the whole face down thing anyways?

My poor essay (that I spent a total of eight stressful hours to write I may add) is bleeding red ink.

I swear it looks like Ms. Carter had a field day with it. Against my better judgment I flip through the pages, cringing even more with every line my eyes scan.

It looks like she criticized everything from my vocabulary to my choice of punctuation. Some of these things don't even make sense!

I slam the essay back onto my desk, pure unadulterated loathing building up inside me.

I'll bet she wasted an entire pen just branding the front page with 49/150 in big block letters.

I sigh and slump forward on my desk. This is what I get for signing up for Honors English. I should have listened to Cilla when she told me to just do the regular English course. I mean…I don't even know what possessed me to try it myself.

But since its way too late to pull out of the class, I settle for just stabbing Ms. Carter in the back with imaginary weapons.

"Hey, how'd you do?" Tia whispers as she leans over from the desk on my left.

"I'm going to kill her one of these days," I mutter back to her.

"Why what happened?"

"A fricken' 49/150!" I hiss angrily. "I could have used all the time I wasted on this project for band rehearsal!"

"Oh…sorry, I got a 148/150…" Tia replies before biting her lip. "Next time if you want I can help you."

"Sure," I mutter.

I glance back at Ms. Carter, who's making her way up the next row. She pauses at the seat to my right, giving the occupant a rare smile.

"Perfect as always, William dear," she says in a sickly sweet voice.

I turn to Tia, miming a gagging motion. She giggles and hid her face behind her paper. I snicker into my hand, biting down on my thumb a bit to keep from disturbing the class.

"Perhaps you could help Miss Marx out with some much needed tutoring sessions."

All amusement fades from my system as I gulp and turn to see Ms. Carter looking down at me with disdain plain on her face. The class erupts in laughter as she moves on, leaving William Anders flushed and hiding behind his thick glasses.

I glance over at William's desk, only wasting a second of my life being jealous of his 200/150.

"No, Ma'am, I'm helping her. No worries," Tia interrupts, trying to save face.

"It seems that your methods aren't working Miss Orville," Ms. Carter sighs as she continues to hand out papers. "Either that or Miss Marx's skull is thicker than her makeup."

"I could tell her a thing or two about makeup," I growl to myself over the howls of laughter erupting from the other kids. "Who mixes blue eye shadow with red lipstick anyways?"

"OLD SLUTS." Tia replies to my musings, much louder than necessary I might add, just so Ms. Carter will hear, as deaf and idiotic as she is.

I giggle, but its cut short as a note lands at the corner of my desk.

The William Anders tries to look nonchalant, and fails epically. I unfold it and stare at the tiny print in the center of the page. Seriously, if it wasn't in this fricken' fancy script I'd call it serial killer writing.

_Do you want to meet me in the library after school? I don't mind helping you out_.

I glance at the boy out of the corner of my eye.

William Andres is a small skinny beanpole with a mop of jet black hair and large turquoise blue eyes that hide behind a pair of thick wire glasses. His IQ is off the charts, and he pretty much sets the grading curve for all of us at Crosswell High School.

Teachers love him; the rest of the student body ostracizes him.

Though he looks modest and never boasts about his GPA, I can't help but wonder if he secretly looks down on all of us. That thought alone is more than enough of a reason to refuse lessons.

Besides, what do I need grades for? My dad is, arguably, the richest man in Nevada. I have my future set out on a fricken' gold platter, completely worry free and full of luxury. What does one year of failing English matter in the long run?

I scoff and toss my hair over my shoulder with a flick of my wrist, silently rejecting any ideas surrounding a study date.

Besides, when the bell rings in seven minutes, Spring Break will have officially started. An entire week spent lounging around my Nobu Penthouse Suite, roaming the various stores and boutiques of the Las Vegas strip with Cilla and Tia, and ignoring the wedding updates mom has been sending me every single day for the past three weeks.

Mom and dad split when I was eight. Mom got my older sister Sakurako and moved the two of them back to her parent's estate in Japan while dad got me and moved us to Vegas.

Now she's getting remarried to some stuffy well-to-do man. She's excited. He's the Chairman of some fancy Academy in Tokyo, and Sakurako will be getting to transfer there completely free of charge. She's been making such a big deal about how it was such a great opportunity and how I should consider taking a transfer and move in with them.

Well look at all the fucks I give not.

I couldn't stand being in the same country as Sakurako, let alone the same house.

Upon finishing reading another note hits me on the head. Only inside is a stick of hot pink gum and a familiar script.

_Yo there's this awesome party tomorrow. Be my date ya?_

I roll my eyes at Tia before grabbing my pen and flattening out the piece of notebook paper.

_Oh hun, you know I'd love to...but I do have a boyfriend you know_ I scribble back. _Tall...dark...handsome...Quarterback of our football team...any of these things ringing a bell?_

She frowns at my response and scribbles back a quick reply.

_Asshole who's grabbed my ass on multiple occasions, claiming to be friendly….And I can't be seen alone now can I ? I'm like 50% sure Cilla is grounded otherwise I'd take you both. P.S. That dick is not invited. Cool people only. Dress nice._

_We talked about that! He doesn't do that anymore. And since I have a real date, I'll be wearing my black Alexander Wang Suspension Pencil Skirt_ I write with a smirk.

_Aren't you fancy? And btw, your 'date' gives me the skeeves. C'mon it'll be fun, just ditch the loser already. It'll be a girl's night…sort of..._

I sigh for a second.

Maybe I should just go alone. After all, Chad did stand me up on the most important night of the year for us. Last night was our first anniversary, and he didn't even bother to tell me he couldn't make it.

He just never showed up. He left me sitting alone for three hours waiting inside a lonely corner of Alize, sipping cold coffee and scarfing down a whole basket of sliced baguette in a shadowed candlelit corner. So if I can't even count on him to show up for an anniversary dinner what makes me think he'll do it for this?

Maybe I do need a night with just Cilla and Tia.

_Fine...if it's just a girl's night then I might downgrade to a pair of flannel pajama pants and a tank top._

Tia scans the note before exhaling heavily and picking up her pen to respond.

_Dude wear whatever, but it's a pretty high class event. Cocktails, hot guys in tuxes, etc. It's at the Venetian_.

I groan as I scrunch my fingers into the roots of my pink and blonde bangs.

_*SIGH* that is not a girl's night out in my opinion...I'll keep the dress then._

Tia makes a big show of rolling her eyes and tosses the paper back on my desk in a minute.

_Fine…Girl's night with no guys. No pajamas. Keep the skirt._

I silently fist pump in triumph and wink at her. She just gives me one of her signature 'whatever' looks before resting her cheek in the palm of her hand.

A thought strikes me as she trills her lips softly. I scribble another note under the last one and pass it back to her, ignoring Ms. Carter as she begins to lecture.

_I also wanted to let you know I had the beginnings of a new song I wanted to show you and Cilla._

Her eyebrows rise slightly as her bites on the tip of her pen.

_K. Cool. I'll drive you home if you want. You can show me then. _

The bell rings right then, and the class roars and burst out of their chairs, scattering papers and junk everywhere. But before the bottleneck jam that usually forms on the rush to leave Ms. Carter's room has time to surface, about thirty different ringtones go off, Sherlock style.

**Spring Break Masquerade Bash at the Aria Hotel curtsey of the Student Body Council. Tonight 7:00pm. All are welcome. Masks required.**

"Well, looks like my plans for tonight have changed," I muse before turning to face Tia. "Where are we shopping? I have absolutely nothing to wear."

"Crystals. Definitely," she say without missing a beat.

"Lead the way, dear," I say with a dramatic flourish of my arms. "But we need to find Cilla first."

"She says she's waiting for us downstairs at the usual place," Tia says as she checks her phone.

"OK," I sigh as I begin to pull my hair into a ponytail. "So about this new song. I don't think that the rhythm is exciting enough. I'm kind of having a creative block and it kinda became a ballad."

I pulled my bag closer to my side as we walk down the halls and began hunting through it for the stack of sheet music. My heart faltered for a second as I search every folder and come up empty handed. It's not here.

I swear under my breath as I begin to panic. Sure it's not my best work, but it's the best thing I've managed to write in a few days…

"Oi! Guys, wait up!" Cilla shouts from the end of the hall as she runs to us with a smile on her face, her chin length hair bouncing around her heart shaped face. "So about this party, are you guys excited? I can't wait to break in these new shoes I've been saving for something like this!"

She brushed her wild ginger and black dip-dyed bangs out of her face as she spoke. Her green eyes were lit up with excitement, almost like Christmas came early and would last for a week.

"Who let her have coffee?" I groan as I observe her infectious happy aura.

"It was just one cup," she whines as she rolls her eyes. "I woke up late again, it's not my fault my stupid alarm is broken. Seriously though, are we going to Crystal's to get dresses or…? Because I don't have anything."

I grab the skin of her cheeks and pull them lightly. She sticks her tongue out at me from between her stretched burgundy lips.

"Calm down hun…" I command with mock authority as I force her to look me in the eye. "Yes we're going shopping, but first I need to find my song."

"Which song is missing?" Cilla asks, shrugged off the comments. "Is it one of ours?"

"Obviously," Tia sighs.

"Well, I kinda wrote a new song during my free time after my Algebra test," I explain as I give up looking in my bag. "I was fixing the drum solo in the choir period after my quartet test and-" I broke off abruptly as the thought crossed my mind. "IT'S IN MY FOLDER!

I thrust my bag into Cilla's hands before turning on my heel and nearly sprinting down the hallway.

"I'll meet you guys in the usual place ok!?" I yell over my shoulder.

I don't wait for an answer before I take off, hoping the room will still be unlocked. Luckily the school is almost empty and I should be able to make it back to the choir room in record time. But I'm just making my way across the muddy quad as a strong pair of hands yank at my wrist.

I stifle a shriek of surprise as I topple over, but a pair of muscled arms catch me before I hit the soggy ground. I know who it is without looking behind me, and I'm not in the mood to deal with him right now.

"Hey beautiful," a husky voice whispers from above me.

"Hey forgetful," I banter back, sarcasm heavy in my voice as I put myself back on my feet.

"Babe, I didn't forget," Chad insists as he runs a hand through a few strands of my long bottle blond hair. "Coach called an emergency practice. I had to."

"Yeah… Whatever," I mutter as I flicked my hair away from him. "And you couldn't spare a single second to text me?"

"C'mon. I'll make it up to you I promise," Chad murmurs as he pulls me into a kiss that I can't quite pull away from.

I remain motionless and refuse to reciprocate, hoping to get my point across. He doesn't get it.

When I'm released, I cross my arms and stare at him.

He crosses his arms childishly across his broad chest and flips his sun bleached chocolate brown hair out of his hazel eyes. I glare back at him, but considering I only stand at five foot two and he stands at five foot seven, I don't think I look very intimidating to him.

"Babe I'm really sorry," he says as he steps towards me.

"That's what you say every time," I snap back. "This is what? The eighth time you've stood me up in the past two months? Sometimes I wonder if this is just all a game to you!"

I turn to leave, anger continuing to radiate off me in waves. Why do I keep forgiving him? I should have saved myself the trouble and broken off our relationship months ago. It's a wonder we've lasted this long anyways.

"Avery wait," he calls as he grabs my wrist.

My chest squeezes painfully at the way my name rolls off his tongue. The tension in my body lessens and he steps up behind me.

"I'll make it up to you. How 'bout we hang tonight? We can do fun stuuuff," he drawls as he pulls me back against his chest, his voice resonating from my neck and up to my ear.

He leans forward to kiss my neck and my anger sparks again. I push him away as hard as I can with one hand while guarding the skin of my neck with the other. Now he's just pushing his luck.

"Even if I wasn't mad at you the answer would still be no," I growl at him before whipping around.

"Fine," he mumbles childishly. "But we can still hang out."

"Can't," I call over my shoulder as I begin walking away. "Oh look, I bothered to tell you in advance. That was sooooo hard."

"Why not?" he whines as he begins to trot after me.

"I have a previous engagement," I say vaguely as I begin to pick up my pace. "Maybe I'll think about going out with you over the break if you stop standing me up."

I hear his footsteps fade and I continue on to the choir room.

The nerve of some guys. Just because he's my boyfriend doesn't mean he can do whatever the hell he wants…

I fume silently to myself as I continue walking, my feet making harder contact with the asphalt than necessary. Now that no one is around to see, my cheeks flame heavily.

I press my palms to my face, hoping to cool them down. But it's mostly done in vain. I eventually give up and just drop my hands, letting my head hang and my bangs fall over my eyes.

Jerk…

I step into the hallway of the Arts Department and head to the second floor. My footsteps echo loudly, emphasizing the silence around me. I exhale heavily as I walk down the hall, but the silence is broken by the sound of a piano.

Well, good news for me, the room is still open.

I pause outside the doorway to listen. The song is lighthearted...and so familiar…

And then I realize...it's mine.

I ease the door open to see William Anders sitting at the piano bench, deeply engrossed in the sheet music in front of him. His hands fly over the piano keys, hitting every note perfectly, as though he's played this song for years.

As much as I hate to admit it, I could listen to this forever.

I close my eyes and lean against the door, unconsciously humming along. The song has no lyrics yet, but ideas come flooding to me quickly, completely eroding away the wall of my creative block.

But my muse comes to a jarring halt as the next measure of notes is fumbled.

"Dammit!"

The rest of his curses are muffled by the door, but even muffled his sounds of frustration are impressive. I'm personally surprised he knows how to swear. He's always seemed like a well-mannered overly sheltered mama's boy to me.

I glance through the small window to see him leaning over the large white piano. He pulls off his glasses and sets them down near the music stand before raking tense fingers through his hair. It takes me a full minute to realize I'm staring.

I guess I've never noticed before…I mean his glasses are always are always blocking them, but his eyes are really stunning. Almost the same shade as raw blue topaz.

I shake myself out of it before taking a breath and stepping inside. He doesn't seem to notice me at first, and tries to start again four measures before the tricky key change I wrote in. He fumbles again and he puts his head in his hands and slams his elbows down on the keys, creating a starling diminished chord.

His frustration is amusing, but also somewhat cute. So I decide to shove aside everything I originally thought about him and take a risk.

"I had a tough time with that part too," I admit as I walk over to the piano.

William jumps a foot in the air and whips his head around, fixing me in a wide-eyed stare with those captivating irises.

I giggle as I stop next to him. He's flustered and flushed, and his reaction only serves to fuel my peals of laughter. I slide onto the bench next to him, ignoring his surprise.

"Here," I say, placing my fingers on the keys. "It's actually easier than it looks. Just watch my hands for a second."

He manages a nod and slips his glasses back on. I turn my attention back to the keys. I take a quick glance up at the sheet music and decide to come in two measures before the troublesome key change. I play through it once before turning back to him.

"Alright," I say as I turn to him. "Now you try."

He nods and bites his bottom lip before turning back to the keys. He starts in the same place I did, and makes it halfway into the key change before he fumbles again.

He sighs heavily and drops his hands to rest on the bench beside him.

"Come on," I urge as I gently elbow him in the side. "You've almost gotten through this. I'll play it with you an octave up."

He nods and gulps nervously before setting his hands on the keys. I play the two measures before and he jumps in at the key change.

This time he doesn't stumble, in fact, he glides through it effortlessly and keeps on to the end of the song.

"See, that wasn't so hard," I say as he finishes the last chord of the piece. "No need to beat yourself up over it. Just be patient."

I stifle another round of laughter as his cheeks flare up like a Christmas light. He yanks his glasses off and runs a hand through his shaggy bangs. For a moment my laugh cuts off as he looks over at me with those large blue eyes.

"So how'd you get your hands on my sheet music anyways?" I ask as I busy myself with pulling my mass of hair over my right shoulder.

"O-oh, it's yours?" he asks as he scrambles to give it back to me. "S-sorry, I found it on the ground under one of the chairs in my music theory class."

My brows rocket into my hairline as he shoves the music into my hands. I had no idea this guy knew anything about music, and it was surprising that he knew how to play the piano this well, much less that he took a music theory class.

It looks like almost everything I thought I knew about this guy is wrong. And I have to admit that this kind of dorky shyness is really refreshing, and kinda attractive. Which is really weird because I mean, I do have a boyfriend and all.

But everything about him is so different compared to Chad. He's got something really unique that I can't help but like. And who knows, maybe I might take him up on those tutoring sessions.

"I'm ah…sorry about today, Avery."

I look up from the sheet music and at him. He's put his glasses back on and is rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"What are you talking about?" I mutter as I set the music down on my lap. "It's not your fault that Ms. Carter's a bitch. And I'm sorry I was rude to you."

"It's ok," he mutters, flinching slightly at me referring to our teacher like that. "I'd act like that too if someone was always comparing me to someone like me. I mean… I-Well…If that makes any sense…uh sorry..."

"It does," I giggle as I glance up at him through my lashes. "And if it makes any difference, I think I seriously misjudged you. I thought you were a total snob at first, but you're actually really sweet Will."

He flushes at my words and I immediately break out into a wide smile. Giggles erupt from my throat and I try to stifle them with my hands. But they just keep coming.

"Sorry," I eventually gasp. "William is a bit of a mouthful, do you mind if I just call you Will?"

"N-no," he stammers as he looks down at his hands. "Now I feel like I should have asked if I could call you Avery."

"Don't worry about it," I say with a lazy wave of my hand as get to my feet. "I hate being called Avrellia anyways."

I tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear, not really knowing what else to say to him. A somewhat awkward silence hangs over us for a moment, and I'm about to just turn around and leave when a question falls over my lips.

"Hey, are you going to the party tonight?"

"Well, it's not really my kind of party," he says as he fixes his gaze on the ivory keys. "I don't think I'd have that good a time."

"That's a shame," I say as I fix the hem of my oversized knit sweater. "Then I guess I'll see you when the break is over?"

He nods as he fumbles to pull another set of sheet music from his bag. I grin and make my way over to the door, pausing only as I grab the handle. I feel like I should say something else, but I don't know what.

"Ummm…Avery?" Will's timid voice comes from behind me.

"Hmm?" I ask as I glance over my shoulder.

"Well, I was just wondering if…well if you were still dating Chad Rogers?"

It takes a second for the question to sink in. But as soon as it does, a large smirk breaks out across my face and Will's face lights up like an inferno.

"I-I didn't mean it like that!" he stammers. "I-I just saw him last night when I was at dinner with my parents at Sage. H-he was with Chel Bryans, and it looked like they were on a date."

My body freezes, all previous joy draining from my system. My jaw goes slack and my tongue feels like a dead weight that takes up too much room in my mouth.

"W-what?" I stammer stupidly, my voice cracking slightly.

His eyebrows rocket into his hairline and the color drains from his face. His eyes lower to the floor and his shoulders slump forward.

"I-I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I shouldn't have said that."

His response snaps me out of my shocked state and I sallow hard. It takes effort to get past the lump in my throat, but when I finally do, I take a shaky breath and walk briskly back to the piano bench.

"No," I reassure him as I and squat down in front of him and meet his gaze. "Thank you for letting me know."

"But now I feel responsible for wrecking your relationship," he protests.

"You're not the one who's cheating on me Will," I say sternly. "In fact if you didn't tell me I'd still have feelings for that asshole."

"You mean you're over him just like that?" he asks cautiously. "I thought you really liked him."

"I did, when we first started out," I admit. "But a girl can only stand being stood up so many times, especially when it was the night of their anniversary. To be honest I think I started falling out of love with him a long time ago. I was just naïve enough to think things would get better."

"I'm sorry," he repeats again. "No girl deserves to be treated like that."

A small smile breaks over my face and I feel my cheeks warm. This is a compromising situation, but I really should hold off making a move on Will until I officially break up with Chad.

"Thanks," I reply as I get to my feet. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a shameless asshole to dump. See you around?"

He nods and I turn to leave, this time determined to actually make it out of the room. I don't want Will to think I'm a shameless flirt and start thinking I'm only rebounding on him because I found out I'm a victim of cheating. I have to do this the right way, even if it means waiting a few weeks.

But just as my foot crosses over the threshold of the room, I pause and look over my shoulder again.

"Will!" I call out, smiling as his head snaps up quickly.

"Y-yeah?" he stammers as he stands up from behind the paino.

"You're really cute without your glasses."

And with that I leave, not daring enough to stay and see his reaction.

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><p><strong>XXx Author's Notes xXX<strong>

**Well, Avery certainly is different than the kind of OCs I usually work with, but I admit I really like the way she turned out. So sorry I turned around and started a new story before moving on with Open Your Heart, but it was just so...ALFHBAOSHBFAYWBFUHEF...tempting...that's what it was.**

** I've had the idea for this kind of character for a long time but just couldn't come up with a good storyline for her. But some besties of mine, melodyxharmony, who own Cilla and Tia.**

**I think we've come up with something really interesting...**

**Well I hope I'll see you guys next time!**

**Lotsa love, Krystal **


	2. Chapter 2

"I swear the next time I see him I'm dumping his sorry ass," I growl as I hold up a laser cut black halter dress from the Stella McCartney line against my body. "I feel so damn _stupid_."

"Try that on," Cilla commands from her spot on a plush seat. "I never trusted him after last Halloween. You know…? When we all got drunk at that party, and he pushed me in the pool in my white dress? Like, seriously."

"Don't remind me," I grumble as I pick up a one shouldered sequin purple dress from the rack on my right side. "I'm such an idiot for waiting this long to do something. And for the last time_ I did not get drunk_! You did! I hold my liquor very well thank you!"

"Could the two of you kindly cease the mention of the consumption of alcohol by minors in a public place?" Tia sighs as she returns to us from a couple racks away. "Unless of course you actually _want_ to get fined. Or do some time in the slammer."

"Yes Ma'am," Cilla and I respond with a mock salute before I return to examining the dresses I have draped over my arms.

"Great," she replies with a wink. "Now what are we not supposed to remind you about Avery?"

"I'm dumping Chad the second I see his cheating cow face," I snarl as I toss the dress over my arm. "He went on a date with Chel Bryans last night instead of showing up for our anniversary dinner at Alize."

"Oh. Well it's about time. I never liked him. Sorry about the Chel Bryans debacle though. Rather unforeseen on my part," Tia quips as she hands me a stack of dresses in an assortment of colors.

"What's all this?" I ask, eyeing the red form-fitting silk number on the top. "There's no way we have this much time."

"We do if you hurry," Tia retorts. "C'mon. Cilla, I've got a couple for you in the private fitting room."

She grabs our hands and tugs us towards an unmarked doorway, behind which lies a room, lux and private. The private fitting room contains a few couches along the walls, an intricate Chinese screen for changing behind and a chandelier that hangs from the ceiling. Piles of formals, semi-formals and cocktail dresses litter one of the couches.

"So I take it you already have something picked out?" I ask Tia as I toss her my purse. "Well don't keep us in suspense...Do show."

She rifles through a few things on a hook and presents to us her outfit for the evening. It was a short aqua blue cocktail dress, complete with intricate straps of white diamonds. The fabric was of the finest satin, and had delicate aqua mask dusted in silver glitter to match.

"Well someone went all out," I say before picking up the red silk dress and stepping behind the changing screen.

"As you both ought to," she sighs as she herds me behind the screen.

I shove her arms away halfheartedly before fully disappearing behind the screen and beginning to pull my sweater over my head. After tossing it on the ground behind me I begin slipping into the red dress, wincing at the fact that I have to arch my back in order to get it zipped all the way up.

"Need help there, hun?" Cilla asks as she peaks around the screen.

"I'll let you know when oxygen can get to my brain again," I pant as my tingling arms fall back to my sides.

A back corset comes flying over the screen and lands on the floor next to my feet.

"Try that underneath and stop complaining," Tia scolds. "Pain for beauty."

"I'm pretty sure the saying is _beauty is pain_," I retort as I pick up the corset and throw it back at her. "And how about I just chose a dress that is actually my size? Or better yet, how about not going in a dress at all? I've got a comfy pair of ripped black jeans that actually allow me some breathing room."

"Only if you let me pick you a pair of heels."

"Depends on what you have in mind," I reply as I pull my sweater over my head. "Are they comfy? Or will I need to take it like a woman?"

"I can get you squishy insoles if you're gonna be a wimp…" she sniggers from the other side of the screen.

"You're calling _me_ a wimp?" I retort as I come out from behind the screen. "Let's not forget who it was that toughed out that museum field trip in stilettos. That's right, _ME_!"

"Blah blah," Tia mocks as she tosses a top over the screen. "You can wear this with those jeans and the heels. OKAY?"

I walk back around the screen and squat down to pick up the poor discarded top. Studying the rich red wine satin corset top, I come to the conclusion that it's nice and fitted without me needing extra help to stay in it. It's plain, but retains a certain refined elegance that I love.

"Good choice on this one," I begrudgingly admit.

"I know," Tia sighs dramatically from the other side of the screen. "I'm a goddess of fashion. You don't need to remind me darling."

"Well don't let it give you a fat head dear," I joke as I zip up the top with only a little difficulty. "We'll talk when you're on a runway in Milan."

"It's not impossible…" Tia says, and I can practically hear the pout in her voice.

"I never said it was," I retort as I step out from behind the screen. "Just remember the little people and give them nice discounts on your designer line."

She grins at me and give an OK on my top. Grinning tiredly I glance over at my reflection in the mirror. It looks good, but I'll need to change out my navel ring to something that won't make a bunch of weird bumps in the fabric the way my trail of stars ring does now.

I flip my hair over my shoulder before turning slowly to glance at my form from the back. My hair covers the parts of my back left bare by the top, and the zipper is secure and the top even comes with a nice hook to ensure it won't fall off my body. All in all it looks good.

Glancing back to the other side of the room, I have to keep myself from sighing heavily. I tap Tia on the shoulder before pointing over to the plush couch sets.

"Look," I say incredulously. "I think someone finally had a caffeine crash."

Sure enough, Cilla is sprawled out across the dressing room sofa, snoring loudly. Dresses lay in crumpled heaps around her and a thin trail of drool snakes down her chin.

"You think we should just leave her there?" I ask Tia, only half joking.

"Oh most definitely," she cackles as she turns to undo the hook on my top. "I'll ask an employee to carry her down to the car for us when we leave. Get dressed."

"Are we meeting there?" I ask as I begin to unzip the shirt.

"Sure, that works," Tia says as she grabs her dress and mask. "See you there then."

I give her a half smile before stepping back behind the screen.

Once her footsteps fade from the dressing room, the weight of everything that's happened in the last few hours hits me like a cement bag.

So…I've really been cheated…

Well this is a first.

I'm not going to lie. It stings.

Although I won't go as far as to say I feel the need to go lock myself in my room and cry my eyes out while watching sappy romantic movies and eating my weight in ice cream. Well, I guess I could always go for ice cream…

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I pull my sweatshirt back. _This is so stupid_. Slinging my school bag over my shoulder, I drape the red top over my arm and step out from behind the screen.

I wave goodbye to the unconscious Cilla before heading towards the checkout.

Hundreds of fine dresses peek out at me from the dress racks, but for some reason, none catch my eye like usual. Normally I buy because I can. I have the money so why not? But I guess I'm still a little more depressed over the whole Chad thing than I thought.

Which is even weirder, since now I could splurge more than usual in the name of '_shopping therapy_.' But what really made me feel better wasn't trying on dresses and shoes, but talking to the shy nerdy boy whose existence I never really acknowledged.

That's kinda scary.

**~ Time Skip ~**

By the time I'm dressed and my makeup is done its 6:45.

I clomp down the stairs of the suite in my five inch, scarlet suede, round toe stilettoes to see dad and girlfriend number thirty-six lounging around couch and watching some kind of sappy chick flick movie.

"Hey dad, did you pull out the mask collection?" I ask as I muss up my hair.

"It's the box on the table," he replies in an emotionless tone without even looking away from the screen. "You got your phone?"

"It's fused to my hand like always," I snark as I walk up to the plastic bin on the island bar counter.

"Be back by eleven," he sighs as he picks up his glass of wine from the coffee table and takes a deep drink from it.

"But Spring break starts tomorrow," I complain as I toss the lid aside and pick up the first black sequined mask I find. "It's not like I need to be anywhere."

"Alright," he sighs. "Be back by two."

I'm crushed with a familiar bittersweet feeling as I stuff my cardkey and credit card into my jeans pocket and head towards the door.

Don't get me wrong, dad's cool and he hardly ever denies me anything, but sometimes I wish he'd be a little more concerned about me like the parents on those annoying sitcoms reruns that are always on. I mean honestly, I'm fifteen years old and he's already let me get my first tattoo. Well it's small and easy to conceal but hey, come on. Part of me only asked for it to see if he would be responsible enough to say no.

It was the same deal with my navel piercing. I asked, expecting him to at least be concerned about possible infections from tools or just me not taking care of it. But all that happened was he said his current girlfriend owned her own parlor and he could make the appointment right now if I really wanted it.

I guess in the end I got them both because again…why not?

Wow…that sounds really stupid even in my own head.

My eyes trail down to the inside of my left wrist where the black ink of my tattoo glares up at me. I sigh heavily and adjust my black and gold Chanel cuff bracelet to hide it before I step up to the elevators.

The doors slide open and I drag myself inside the compartment. My ears ring with the soft music in the background as I lean up against the walls. How many things about me would be different if I had a more controlled upbringing?

No blond and pink hair.

No credit cards.

No guitar lessons, but something stupid like a clarinet or harp.

No walking around the city unsupervised.

No going alone to concerts and shows.

Definitely no tattoos or extra piercings.

And definitely no hanging around with Cilla and Tia.

Hell if I grew up with mom I'd probably be super lucky if I even had a cell phone.

As if my cellphone has a comedic timing app, my phone buzzes to let me know mom's sent me another picture message.

Rolling my eyes, I type in my password and the screen shifts to the picture message. I glance down at the small line of text underneath it, and automatically my mind reads the text in mom's voice.

_We've finally chosen the maid of honor and the ring bearer's outfits. Sakurako and Tamaki look so stunning. Still wish you were attending._

Glancing back up at the photo I look at the blond haired bot that is to become my stepbrother. We look oddly alike, except for the fact that I'm not a natural blonde. I guess he is a little bit handsome, but not really my type thank god. I just feel bad that someone looking like him has been reduced to being a ring bearer.

Isn't that a job for a little kid or something?

My glance trails over to my sister, and I feel bile rise in my throat at the sight of her hideous pink dress. Honestly I am appalled. It's full of bows, lace, and sequins and the color of Pepto Bismol. Once again, I say a prayer of thanks to whatever deity is listening that I was able to escape this horrible fate by convincing mom that next week was all of my final exam sessions.

I slip my phone back into my pocket as the elevator doors slide open again and I begin my trek to the Aria. Even in my ridicules heels I know the Las Vegas strip and the surrounding streets like the back of my hand, so I can avoid the massive crowds of tourists.

It's a long walk, but it's still way faster than attempting to take a taxi.

My senses are always overrun as I walk through the streets at night. Everything is blindingly bright, and the scent of smoke and alcohol hang heavy everywhere. It doesn't bother me as much as it used to, but I've become pretty good at weaving my way through the crowds to avoid the worst of it.

Eventually I'm met with the looming form of the Aria.

It's not hard to find the party hall. I can feel the boom of the bass vibrating in my sternum from the minute I set foot in the lobby. The staff has the perfect balance between controlled irritation and complete indifference over the commotion, and the guests don't seem to notice at all.

I roll my neck and shoulders before stepping into the half lit party hall that's covered in confetti and metallic multicolored balloons that roll around the floor when they come in contact with other kid's feet. I nudge the one that floats over to my with the toe of my shoe, and wonder how long it will take for someone's stilettos to pop one.

My question is answered almost immediately as I'm making my way over to the table weighed down by party food. A small group of girls I vaguely recognize from my French class stumble away from the spread and trip over their own feet, popping about five balloons simultaneously while spilling punch all over the floor.

So I guess I should watch my punch intake. At least until I find out what's actually in it that is…

**~Time Skip~**

I spend the first hour and a half lingering around the edge of the party.

I found Cilla and Tia about forty-five minutes ago, but they broke away to dance with some guys from the water polo and soccer teams. The songs fade into each other and I've lost count of how many have passed since I last refilled my cup, so I kick off my place on the wall and saunter over to the table for the fifth time that night.

I gnaw on a few cheese cubes and a potato ball before sliding over to the punch. I hum along with the new song that fades in and debate going home since I'm bored out of my mind.

"Hey who's the guy in the suit?" some girl leaning against the snack bar suddenly asks. "Never seen him around school."

"Hows' a guy lookin' like that stayed off my radar all year?" her friend slurs. "Come on let's go pick him up."

"Too late," the first girl sighs. "Someone's beat us to the punch."

My eyes raise from my drink and follow their gaze. They land on a tall but thin boy with sleek black hair. He's decked out in a black suit with a white button down shirt. He looks handsome but completely out of place, and I can tell by just looking at the way he carries himself.

Will actually showed up.

I won't blame them for not recognizing him. After all, he did clean up good, but now I'm kind of regretting asking him to come as more girls begin to notice him and swarm like bees. He looks completely distressed and it gives me a faint tug on the heartstrings.

My feet move without me really thinking about it and carry me to the edge of the mass of girls. They continue to crowd the poor kid and shamelessly drop pickup lines in an attempt to sound seductive. I almost find myself giggling as I picture how they'd react to finding out he's just the smart nerdy boy they'd completely blow off if he tried talking to them.

Right then, Will looks up and catches sight of me. A look of relief passes over his face as he makes a move to walk over.

"A-Avery," he stammers as he manages to bridge the gap between us. "I can't believe I actually managed to find you in all this."

"I can't believe you showed up," I tease as I loop my arm through his and pull him away from the disappointed group of girls. "I thought these kinds of parties weren't your thing."

"Well…" he trials off as his shoulders slump. "Everyone keeps telling me I need to get out more and learn to deal with other people. But I guess with what happened back there I still need some work."

"I guess that was kind of your Cinderella moment huh?" I mutter as I guide us back towards the snack table. "How did it feel having all that attention from a bunch of cute girls?"

His face turned red as I let go of his arm and reach for the ladle resting in the punch bowl. It's cute how easily he gets flustered, but the look on his face halts the giggle building up in my throat.

"Fake," he mutters grimly.

"What?" I reply as I turn back to him.

"It felt really fake," he repeats as he averts his eyes from me. "Because I know if I showed up here looking like I usually do they'd have blown me off just like usual."

"What?" I reply with a dry laugh. "Did you think I was just teasing when I said you looked cute without your glasses?"

"I-I didn't know what to think about that," he stammers as his cheeks turn even redder and he nervously pulls at the neck of his shirt.

"Here," I sigh as I shove my cup into his hand. "It's not prom, loosen up a bit."

I ignore the ever reddening of Will's face as I reach up and work the knot on his tie. Within a minute I have it off, the first two buttons on his shirt undone, and his jacket open. I fold the tie and stick it in his jacket pocket and study him again.

"There," I say as I admire my handy work. "Just one last thing."

I reach up and mess up his hair so it's in its normal messy state. The ebony hairs are fine and soft against my fingers and reflect the colored lights of the room that dye our surroundings in shades of blue, purple, and lime green.

"Were you always this tall?" I grumble as the heels of my stilettos finally settle back on the floor. "Cuz these are like, five inch heels."

Will just averts his eyes and shakes his head. He hands me back my drink and finches slightly when his hand brushes mine. Maybe I overdid it a bit.

"Do you want a drink?" I ask, trying to defuse the awkward silence.

"Isn't there stuff in it?" he asks as we watch a group of kids stumble past us with their cups sloshing red punch over the rim.

"Well yeah," I sigh. "It's a party after all, of course it's been spiked. I'm guessing it's vodka since I can't really taste anything other than the punch."

"You drink?" he asks, looking highly concerned as I bring the rim of my cup to my lips again.

"Occasionally," I reply as I agitate the cup. "And I can hold it well so when I do drink I tend to indulge a bit. But it's not like I'm addicted."

Will doesn't look convinced as his gaze drifts over to the punch bowl again. Disapproval is clear on his face. I guess I'll just take that as a no.

"Do you want to dance?" I finally ask, trying to dissolve the awkward silence that's only diluted by the loud boom of the music.

"I-I don't really know how," Will stammers awkwardly.

"Oh please," I cackle as I place my cup don on the nearest table. "You don't need to actually know how to dance nowadays. All you really need to do is jump up and down and bob your head to the music. Trust me no one's judging."

I grab onto his hand and his face is washed over in a wave of panic. Ignoring the distress signals he's giving me I bring him to the edge of the crowd.

"Come on," I insist as I turn back to him. "Just have fun."

Grabbing his hands in mine I pull him closer into the mass of people. But we've barely been, if you can really call it, dancing for a minute before Will freezes solid. I stop my awkward jumping and glance up at him, his wide blue eyes fixated on the other side of the dance hall.

I push myself up on my toes and try to see over the heads of the crowd, which is easier said than done, and try to follow his gaze.

And the sad thing is, I don't really feel anything other than hallow when I see Chad Walk in with Chel Bryans draped around him like, well…cheap clingy drapes. It's horribly uncomfortable to look at and honestly makes me feel like I shouldn't have had that last cup of punch, since it makes my stomach turn when he leans down and kisses her loud, hot pink lips.

"Well," I mutter as I swallow with a little difficulty. "I think I may have just thrown up in my mouth a little bit."

"Are you alright?" Will asks suddenly, his eyes widening as he glances down at me.

"Fine," I reply bitterly. "So long as I don't have to look at it for too long."

I walk away from the dance floor in a slight daze, still quite not believing that he actually had the balls to show up with Chel at a party like this. My head presses against the cool wall hand the cold rushes into my flushed skin.

"Stupid," I mutter as I bang my head against the wall. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

My eyes flicker over to them again against my will, to see them practically mating on the dance floor and the urge to hurl hits me again. This is the time to quit. Time to go home and sleep this off.

But not before I go break his foot with my heels.

But before I so much as take one step in their direction, a mop of ginger dip dyed hair all but yanks them apart by their hair. Cilla looks like a raging inferno as she gets in Chad's face, and I can see by the way she's wobbling in her black ankle boots that she's had a few more than one too many drinks.

Then my heart all but stops as she brings her hand back and slaps Chad across the face.

I can feel his anger and see it flash in his eyes. My feet move without much instruction from my brain, which seems to have temporarily shut down. As I continue stumbling through the balloons that litter the floor, I watch in horror as his hand flies back and he returns her slap with the strength of a varsity football player.

The force of it sends Cilla's lightweight body flying backwards and into a group of people in a small circle at the edge of the floor. They stumble out of the way, making no effort to try and help her as she hits the floor with a muffled thud.

Tia steps out of the crowd just as I reach Cilla, and I turn to face Chad as Tia tries to get Cilla back on her feet.

"Just when I thought you couldn't sink any lower," I spit.

"Bitch deserved it!" he snarls back at me, looking completely unconcerned at the fact that I just caught him cheating on me.

"So did you!" I yell as I my eyes flash over to Chel, who's peeking out from behind Chad's shoulder with a smug look on her face. "I can't believe you're actually stupid enough to bring her here where there was a 110% chance I'd see you!"

"Why do I care about any of that?!" he roars in my face. "I only dated you in the first place because you were loaded! Now who's the stupid one?!"

The hallow feeling from earlier returns. It seeps over me like molasses, and the only thing I can feel at the consistent vibration of the bass in my bones.

Chad's lips curl into a triumphant smirk at my shock, and I'm painfully aware that everyone seems to have stopped the party to watch our fight.

Well if they want to watch, I'll give them a good show.

Before Chad even has the chance to react, I throw a right hook that catches him straight in the nose. There is a sickening crunching noise, followed by shooting pain up my arm to tell me I wasn't as clear headed as I thought and didn't throw the punch the right way.

But that's a small price to pay to see Chad howling and clutching his face, blood streaming through his fingers.

"As if it wasn't already obvious, I'm relieving you from your position as my boyfriend," I say sharply as I cradle my hand. "And if you still plan on cheating after this, I hope you'll at least be smarter about it next time."

I turn to leave, and the first person I see is Will. I smile sadly and nod towards the door, giving him a silent goodbye. But my attempt to leave is stopped when he reaches out and takes my right hand out if the cradle made by my left.

"So…" I trail off as he examines it. "Will I live?"

"I'm no doctor," he sighs as he lets go and my hand returns to its cradle. "You should get that looked at by a professional."

I nod numbly in thanks before glancing back at the door.

"Thanks," I mumble. "I guess I'll just-"

I'm cut off as Will suddenly grabs onto my arm and pulls me forward. Glancing behind me I see Chad falling forwards, his fist outstretched and positioned to punch me had Will not pulled me out of the way. He crashes into a group of people crowded around us that is to drunk to react fast enough, and some poor kid gets a fist in his face.

"He look!" some kid laughs idiotically. "They're punching each other!"

Then without warning he punches the kid on his left.

I stare in horror as the people around me start breaking into fights.

Shit…this is going to end badly…

**XXx Author's Notes xXX**

**Well...**

**I've survived the return to school and finally gave this fic some long overdue attention. Now to focus on everything else I'd say I wouldn't get behind on...**

**Well starting next chap we'll get to Japan and actually have some interaction with the other characters. But anyways, let me know what you think! Reviews are much loved and pull me back from my 'Do nothing for days after I post a chapter' funk.**

**So till next time!**

**Lotsa love, Krystal **


	3. Chapter 3

Mom taps her foot irritably as we stand in line to board our first class plane cabin. Her hand is clamped so tightly around my shoulders that I can feel the tips of her nails through the thick fleece of my onesie.

My bright pink, leopard print, Hello Kitty onesie complete with matching sequined UGGs, a pink splint wrapped snuggly around my right hand while my left holds some obscure Starbucks drink I've never had (or wanted) but threw a tantrum to get, and a pair of large purple aviator lenses.

She's still angry that she has to be seen in public with me like this. But I threatened to throw a huge tantrum in the middle of the hotel lobby is she tried to force me to change into something else. But trust me; I have a perfectly good reason for trying to make a fool of her in public like this.

Right now I hate my mother dearest more than anyone in the world.

For a moment she lets go, leaving me to stand frozen as I try not to cry. Even lenses this big can't hide the torrents of tears threatening to push over my lower lash line. My hands shake around the plastic cup and cling to it by the slick leather straps of my Hello Kitty backpack.

My life…it's slipping away faster than my self-control.

"Excuse me, you're holding up the line Miss," an irritated flight attendant says with a smile that is more plastic than the Starbucks cup.

I glance up and mom is waiting irritably on the other side of the ticket scanner, daring me to try and make a break for it. A smile makes its way across her face as she takes in my ridged form. She jerks her head towards the gangway once before beginning to walk away slowly, her heels making muffled clunking noises on the carpeted floor.

I shuffle forwards, setting my backpack down and fishing my boarding pass out of my onesie pocket. The lady takes it, trying not to stare at my weird getup. I'm scanned in a second later and trudging through the tunnel and into the plane.

Another plastic lady looks at my pass and points me in the general direction of my seat. Mom is already sitting and sipping a glass of wine with her headphones set in place and plugged into her TV. I have the seat right behind her.

This cabin really is first class. My seat is practically its own little cubical, with a wall concealing my reclining seat from the rest of the passengers. I collapse into my seat and strap myself in, tossing my bag under the mini desk that runs the length of the wall. I fall into another stupor, staring blankly out one of the three windows in my cubical.

I'm dead to everything.

My chest gives a painful jolt as the scenery starts to change and we roll down the runway. Every second we spend picking up speed stretches my chest taunt like a rubber band.

When the plane finally lifts off the ground the rubber band snaps and the tears win. They course down my cheeks in streams so powerful I couldn't stop even if I wanted to. My nose runs and my breath sticks in my throat.

Curling up in my seat, I bury my face in the staticy pillow provided by the airport, utterly defeated.

_**~ The Night Everything Fell Apart ~**_

_I've never been in a holding cell before._

_I'm cramped and cold, and my hand is swelling up and turning an ugly purple-blue color. It still throbs periodically, and apparently I don't have enough alcohol in my system to dull it. I try not to look at it as Tia leans against the wall next to me._

"_You know," she sighs, somehow managing to look as calm as if this were just another day in class. "I always thought we'd end up in jail to bail out Cia. You know, on the __**other side**__ of the bars."_

_I try to laugh, but I can't._

"_Where is she anyways?" I ask dully._

"_Getting her blood alcohol level tested," she answers. "And she's majorly screwed."_

"_Miss Orville," a gruff looking policeman grumbles from the other side of the bars of the cell as he looks up from his notebook. "Please follow me."_

"_I guess it's my time for questioning," she sighs as she pushes herself off the wall and walks confidently over to the door of the cell._

_As she walks out, Will is shoved back in, and I'm impaled by guilt at the worried look in his eyes. He looks even more out of place here, and I can only hope that his lack of any intake will get him off softer than the rest of us._

_He walks over and stands in front of me, silent as his eyes zero in on my swelling hand._

"_I guess there's no point in asking if you're feeling any better, is there?" he asks as he skinks down to his knees in front of me._

"_Not really," I respond with a smile I can't quite maintain. "I'm really sorry. You shouldn't be here."_

"_There's nothing to be sorry for," he responds as he averts his eyes. "It's not your fault."_

"_Yes it is," I insist. "Like you'd have actually turned up if I hadn't asked you to come."_

_Will flushes bright red all the way up to his ears, and I feel my own cheeks warm. I duck my head down and rest my forehead in my arms, a shiver running through my body._

"_Sorry," I mumble, hoping he'll hear it through my arms. "I'd just feel a lot better if you were angry with me right now."_

_I hear the ruffling of material and a warm thick jacket is draped over my shoulders._

_When I look up, Will is still blushing. But he looks me square in the eyes when he speaks again._

"_I can't really bring myself to be mad at you," he admits with a defeated smile._

_Before I can respond, another policeman steps up to the holding cell and calls my name out in an irritated tone._

_I get to my feet, unconsciously clutching the jacket around me as I take one last look at Will. He gives me a reassuring nod as I'm lead away into another room where I'm sat down in a less than comfortable metal folding chair._

"_Well Miss Marx," the officer sighs as he slumps into his chair and drops three lumps of sugar into his coffee mug. "We've gone through your contact information, and your mother and father are on their way here as we speak."_

_I blanch._

_**Mom**__ is on her way here?_

**~ LAX Airport ~**

The plane lands in LAX forty minutes later.

I've been to California before multiple times. Every summer Cilla, Tia, and I would come over from Nevada to visit Disneyland a few times, and we'd stay the night at the resort. Usually landing in California made me giddy with excitement.

Now I'm just painfully reminded that I'm 226 miles from home.

Mom tries to get me to change again, even going as far as to saying she'll go buy me something from the nearest boutique. But in the end she just gets angry as I shove my ear buds into my ancient pink 2005 iPod Nano.

Yup.

iPod Nano.

You heard right. Mom's confiscated my cell phone until we get back to Japan. So unless I swallowed my pride and let myself be seen with this in public, I get nothing but her for company.

While we walk in silence to the next terminal, I focus intently on songs I haven't listened to in years.

_American Pie_ fades into _Drops of Jupiter_ and then into _Amanda_ as mom decides she's hungry since the breakfast served on the plane ride was less than satisfactory.

She looks around for any place to eat that will satisfy her revived aristocratic taste buds as I hum along with _Any Way You Want It_.

I've gotten halfway through _Your Smiling Face_ before she realizes there is nothing to meet her standards that we have time for.

_Hotel California_ gets us to our next terminal, which begins boarding first class in thirty minutes if everything is on time.

By the time I get to _Who Can It Be Now?_ Mom decides she's hungry enough to make do with anything within ten feet of our current position.

Our terminal only has a Starbucks in it. So I refuse any real food and force mom to buy me a Cotton Candy Frappuccino, even though I left my last drink untouched on the plane. Some lucky stewardess gets a free Raspberry Cheesecake Latte.

I pretend to take a sip while tapping my foot to _We Built This City_, mostly just so I can see the look of disgust on moms face as I put this horribly pink drink in my body. I'd laugh if I could manage.

We sit in silence as we wait for the ok to get on the plane, which is almost on time. I get through _Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, New York Minute, and Dreams,_ both the one by Fleetwood Mac and the one by the Cranberries, by the time we're called up to board.

IT's the same as before, the stretching in my chest as I board the cabin. The plush reclining seat may as well be a cheap plastic chair and the flat screen TV just another ratty back of the seat in front of me.

A stewardess offers me a selection of muffins and other pastries fifteen minutes into our flight, but I can't tear my eyes away from the expanse of water that multiplies the miles I am from home by the minute. She walks away after a minute, but it's ok.

I bet they tasted like sawdust anyways.

**~ One Week Ago ~**

"_Boxers Fracture," the doctor says after examining my X-Ray results for a minute. "It's not too serious, but she will need a splint. I'll go set up the paper work for a transfer to an orthopedic surgeon."_

_She leaves the room to go get what she needs to send me someone more qualified to align my bones, and mom turns sharply on dad the moment she's out of earshot._

"_I trust you to take care of our daughter and this is what happens?!" she yells. "Is this what you call good parenting?!"_

"_She got cheated on," dad argues back, not showing any sign of real concern. "You'd have done the same Nana. Don't pretend you forgot that nice punch you gave me the night we decided to divorce."_

"_Stop trying to sidetrack me!" mom snaps. "Look at her! She looks like some common girl that works street corners!"_

"_Oh please," I sigh as she takes in my black shorts and red crop top. "My bra isn't even showing. And these shorts go up past my belly button."_

_Dad chuckles and mom whips around, her eye brow twitching mile a minute and looking like her veins might pop out of her skin._

"_I'm __**NOT**__ in the mood for this right now Avrellia," she growls. "I'm extremely disappointed in you! I thought I raised you better than this!"_

"_In case you've somehow missed this crucial detail, I've been __**here **__for the last seven years," I shoot back at her. "You haven't had a hand in my raising since I was eight."_

"_And whose decision was that?" mom shrieks back at me. "I tried to take you with me but you threw a never ending tantrum about wanting to stay with 'Daddy' so I let him have custody. Obviously that was the biggest mistake of my life! I should have taken you kicking and screaming if I had to!"_

"_What are you getting at Nana?" dad cuts in, suddenly uncharacteristically serious. "Are you saying I'm unfit to be Avery's father?"_

"_The hell yes I am!" she spits. "I'm going to do what I should have done seven years ago. I'm taking Avrellia with me back to Japan!"_

"_Hell no!" I scream from the exam bench. "What makes you think I'm coming with you?"_

"_It's not a choice this time," mom spits as she whips out her cell phone. "I'm suing for your full custody."_

_The weight of those words hit me full in the face, yet I couldn't really bring myself to feel that she would actually do it. I glance over at dad, but the shock on his face made it harder to delude myself._

"_No," I whimper, turning to mom. "You wouldn't! Mama __**please**__!"_

"_Watch me," she snaps as she pushes the call button on her cell phone and steps out of the room. "Moshi moshi? Yamada-san…"_

_The rest is lost as she slams the door shut behind her._

_My heart thumps wildly as I glance over to dad._

_He looks somber, but for the first time since the divorce, he looks like a dad should in this situation. He crosses the room and wraps his arms around me, careful not to bump my hand. He kisses the crown of my head and rubs calming circles on my back like he did when I was little._

"_Don't worry," he says as my body shakes. "I won't let her take you away."_

**~ Honolulu International Airport ~**

After another excruciating five and a half hours on the plane we land in Honolulu.

Again, like California, we used to come out to Hawaii during the holidays. Although we saved our beach house for the Christmas holidays. I still have a lot of stuff in that beach house, but I doubt mom would let me go stop by.

I guess I can always hope that dad will send me some stuff the next time he's out here. We have another hour and forty minutes until our next plane takes off to our final destination.

I didn't know we had this stop, and the second I step off the plane I'm baking. While we stop outside the terminal so mom can use the bathroom, I unzip the top and tie the arms around my waist. Mom looks more than just a little angry when she sees I had on a pair of grey shorts and a pink crop top on underneath it this whole time.

I can only grin to myself as she stalks off towards the restaurant block, not even looking to see if I'm following or not. I question why I do, and eventually settle on the excuse that even if I did manage to get away, all my cell phone is confiscated and I don't have the key to our beach house. Even if I managed to get through the two hour bus ride down to Lanikai Beach, mom would have no trouble finding out where I went since I am in this getup.

Sighing, I trek up to her, and to her disappointment she finds no five star restaurants. I don't know why she's even trying now. We end up eating a meal from the food court consisting of chicken and rice, which I wash down by another obscure Starbucks drink that I actually try this time. Fuzzy Peach Tea…which is ok I guess.

We sit down in the waiting area for our terminal, and I see the old man in the seat across from us pull out a battered old guitar and begin to strum the strings. My foot begins tapping out the rhythm, and much to mom's displeasure, I begin singing along with this stranger as he plays the tune of _Country Roads_, whose lyrics were only recently refreshed by my ancient iPod.

I listened to it no less than 12 times on the flight from LA to Honolulu.

There isn't a lot of music on this thing.

The man smiles at me as we finish the song and the surrounding people clap politely.

"You know this one?" he asks me as he begins playing another intro.

A smile splits my face despite myself.

Being in a competition choir, or having been I guess, it was impossible not to know _Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)._ I tried out for this solo this last fall, but it went to another girl who, sadly, wasn't half as good as she seemed to think she was, yet was the star of Crosswell High.

I had been hoping to beat her in the upcoming audition for _Total Eclipse of the Heart, _but that's just one more thing that punches me in the gut when I think about it. I won't get to do that either.

And I'd been working on that audition for months too…

I wipe my eyes on the heel of my palm and ask the man if he can play it.

He nods, not questioning my sudden surge of emotion, and I sing it with all my heart.

We're interrupted midway by the call for first class boarding, and I wave miserably to the old man who's in coach. Mom has her iron claw grip on my shoulder and steers me into the gangway. I sigh heavily as the man scans my boarding pass and I'm ushered through to the first class cabin.

Like I could escape now even if I wanted to…

In this plane, the first class cabin has beds, and that means mom and I are right next to each other.

I lay down on my bed, untying the arms of my onesie and zipping it back up to fight the sudden cold of the cabin. Mom gives me a glance from her seat/bed thing, her voice hard as nails.

"Your new family will be picking us up at the airport," she says icily. "I hope you'll have plenty of time to clean up your act before we get there."

Instead of answering, I press the button that causes a dividing wall to rise between our seats. She makes an exasperated sound in the back of her throat as I curl up on my side, squeezing my eyes shut.

Anything to keep me from seeing the distance between me and my home increase by another few thousand miles.

**~ Three Days Ago ~**

"_Full Custody goes to the Plaintiff."_

_Those six words shatter my world. The floor and ceiling are gone, walls don't exist. Nothing seems right. It's as if the laws of the universe no longer apply._

_Mom wears a triumphant smile, and dad looks completely blank faced._

_Like he can't quite believe he lost._

_And I'm right there with him._

_I'm lead from the court room in a daze. I can't even remember if dad tried to say goodbye to me. All I really knew for sure is that I was back in the iron claws of a monster I thought I escaped seven years ago. _

_Before I know it, I'm inside a Hilton hotel suite with mom running around the kitchen area making us tea. My hands tremble in my lap as she sits down in front of me and passes me a streaming mug of…well, I don't really know my teas._

"_You'll go back to the Nobu tomorrow to start packing your things," she says as she blows away the steam from her cup. "We'll be leaving as soon as possible, so try to be quick about it."_

_She gets up and pulls the curtains closed across the windows. The light is dimmed, and she props open her laptop on the coffee table. Her long black hair falls around her shoulders as she punches the keys furiously with the tips of her long sculpted nails._

"_On second thought," she says as a smile crosses her face. "Only pack what you need. We can buy you all new things when we get you settled back in the estate. Why don't you just go sleep for now? The trial must have tired you out."_

_I nod numbly as I leave my tea untouched on the table and trudge into the next room. For some reason, mom rented a suite that could sleep six people. I guess it was just her way of showing dad that she had more than enough money to draw out the court case if she wanted._

_I pull off the jacket of my ebony suit dress set, which I had tried to use to give dad a bit of a boost. It's actually Will's jacket, so it fits me a bit loose, but it was somewhat of a comforting element during the trial._

_I fold it neatly and tuck it under my arm, I step out of my shoes, trialing them on the floor on the way to my bed so mom can trip over them later. My skirt and white button-up top join the trial to my bed, and the last to go are the medieval torture devices known to the rest of the world as pantyhose._

_God I hate that word._

_Mom has provided me with a long sleeved pink silk nightdress from one of the boutiques on the lower floors. It lies innocently in a neatly folded pile on the pillows of my bed. I glare at it in return._

_But if I be stubborn and refuse to wear it, mom will see my tattoo and my navel ring._

_She already freaked at the sight of my extra ear piercings. I'm beginning to feel really glad I second guessed the nose stud I was considering three weeks ago._

_I pull it on reluctantly, and the hem rests at my mid-thigh. I place Will's jacket on the chair next to my bed, and then before mom can have the chance to bother me again, I crawl under the covers and pull them up over my head._

_And I sleep until she wakes me up for breakfast the next morning._

**~ Haneda Domestic Airport ~**

As soon as I step off the plane I swamped in a tidal wave of Japanese.

Signs, maps, advertisements, and just the people around me ushering us onto the gangway. I haven't really used the language much over the years, so I'm rusty, but I refused to practice with mom over the past three days. She seemed intent to immerse me, yet I refused to answer in anything other than English, or the occasional French swear that I picked up from my few months in the class.

She seemed to realize I was saying something foul after a while, so she had stopped trying to talk to me after the first two hours.

When we get off the plane, mom's iron grip is back on my shoulder and steering me through the crowd. My eyes are glassy as they begin unloading the luggage from the plane, trying to pick out my lavender zebra print set. I hadn't managed to get even half of what I owned into the four cases, and mom had gone through my closest telling me what I could and could not take with me.

I had managed to smuggle in my three favorite dresses and six of the eighty-four pairs of my shoe collection. I had Tia promise to send the others through the mail once I find out my new address. But with my phone now in mom's possession who knows when that will be?

Maybe I shouldn't have been so stuck up about getting all kinds of social media accounts.

I'm jerked to a stop and my gaze goes to the group of three walking up to meet us. Mom breaks off to go talk to a middle aged man with light brown hair and a rather charming, if forced, smile. This leaves me with the blond boy from the picture message and my sister dearest.

Sakurako is wearing a sleek pink dress with a light cream colored jacket that makes her look like the Cotton Candy Frappuccino I refused to touch. Her hair has been chopped back into a traditional Hime cut, and is pinned back with pearl clips that match the bracelet and necklace set she's wearing.

Bitter loathing builds up in my throat as she takes in my appearance in comparison to hers and a smirk spreads across her pink lips.

"You look the same as when we left," she says happily before switching to English. "All I need to do is keep you beside me and I'll look ten times better."

"Casse-toi," I spit at her as I crack my gum in her face.

The blond boy stiffens as the words come out of my mouth, and Sakurako seems to notice that she's just been insulted. Her eyes harden and she looks between the both of us, looking like she can't tell if she wants a translation.

Now that I look at this blond boy, I see that he has some European features mixed in with the Japanese. So that's it, he must be half French, or at least fluent in it.

"My dear princess," he says quickly. "French is a language of love; please don't let such vulgar words grace the lips of a lovely lady like yourself."

"What did she call me?" Sakurako whines, giving the biggest eyes she can manage at the poor blonde kid.

A smile crosses my lips as he tries to sidestep the question, but Sakurako just latches onto his arm and continues to whine. I can see he's trying to be gentlemanly about it, but she makes him uncomfortable.

I giggle, causing them both to look at me. Sakurako looks at me like I've just ruined something, but I just tug on the blonde boy's sleeve.

"There's only one thing that you need to know about me if we're all going to be living with each other," I say icily.

Something flickers in the boy's violet eyes, but he looks relieved I've shown the ability to speak Japanese somewhat well.

"What is it?" he asks.

I take a step back, grinning as I place one hand on my hip while pointing square at Sakurako's chest with my other.

"Cette salope me fait chier," I say with a large smile.

The boy recoils in shock, but before anyone can say anything else, mom and the other man call for us to get in line for baggage claim.

**~ Two Days Ago ~**

_My penthouse suite was being ransacked._

_For everything I tried to pack, mom threw three things out. It's the most frustrating process ever. I'd gladly trade mom for four years of English with Ms. Carter in a heartbeat. At least then I'd still have Tia, and maybe Will._

_It's already started out as a sucky day. There was a note stuck under the door from Tia. She had been grounded for a month._

_No phone, no credit cards, no internet._

_Cia had gotten much worse._

_Apparently her parents were finally done with her shit and shipped her off to military school._

_We didn't even get to say goodbye._

_Now mom's taken a break from ordering me around and went to use the bathroom, and I see this as my one chance to see my beloved city one more time._

_I shuck off my ugly pink dress from the same boutique the nightgown came from, and pull on a pair of denim shorts and a black paint splattered zip up crop top lying on the floor beside me. I scramble over mounds of clothes to get to my pile of stuffed animals. I snatch the small white bear covered in little green hearts and dig my fingers into the tear in his back and extract a credit card from his stuffing._

_Mom is still taking her sweet time, so I pick up a pair of shoes and make a dash for the front door, only stopping to grab Will's jacket from the table._

_I throw it on and lace up my sneakers in the elevator._

_When the doors open, I'm shocked to see the face that almost comes nose to nose with me. And Will is equally surprised._

"_Avery," he says quickly. "I just came to see if you were ok, I heard about the court case-"_

_I cut him off and grab his wrist, yanking him along behind me as I run. I don't stop until we're at the next street corner, and after sitting in the trial for days on end didn't do much for my little athletic ability._

"_What's going on?" Will wheezes as we wait for the streetlight to change._

"_She's taking me away," I gasp as I cutch his hand. "I'm leaving and I'm not coming back."_

"_Where?"_

_He looks at me with an intense blue stare, and I can see some of my hurt reflected in them._

"_Tokyo."_

_The silence around us would be deafening if we weren't standing in the middle of the crowded Las Vegas Strip._

"_When?"_

"_Tomorrow morning."_

_His hand tightens around mine._

"_Do me a favor Will?"_

_He glances up at me, and mirrors my own surprise as I feel tears slipping down my cheeks._

"_What?"_

"_Spend this last day with me."_

**~ Suoh Main Estate ~**

"Get some rest," mom commands as she closes the door to the guest room behind me.

The room is dark, and I pull of my aviator lenses and place them in my backpack. Pulling my hair down from its messy topknot I fall into the first real comfortable seat in a long time. I'm too scared to take anything off, because I don't know if it will be there when I wake up.

Along with another stuffed animal hiding a credit card after my other one was confiscated after my day out with Will, my plush sheep lays cradled inside my backpack. It's the only thing that has survived my childhood, and I would rather stick pins in my eyes than let someone take her away from me now.

I pull Rammy out of the confines of my backpack and cuddle her close to my chest, pressing my face into her eggplant purple wool.

After a while I pull a small photo strip from my backpack as well, staring at it as my eyes droop.

"_Spend this last day with me Will."_

**XXx Author's Notes xXX**

**More or less, Casse-toi = Fuck off/piss off**

**Cette salope me fait chier = I can't stand this bitch. ^^**


	4. Chapter 4

Everything about the lady sitting in front of me rubs me the wrong way.

She looks like any old grandma from a distance, but I have never had the luck to meet a grandma that can freeze hell over with a single glare. I wish I could have kept it that way.

I sit as still as I possibly can in front of her, because something tells me she'd be the type to call me out for breathing the wrong way.

I take a little comfort that my mother so graciously decided to bring me here to meet this lady alone.

In the last hour, they've gone over the most pressing issues concerning my sudden intrusion. From what I can understand, they're going to send me to the same stuffy school Sakurako goes to. Which sucks. For me. And her. But mostly me.

If given the option, I will steer as clear of her as I can manage. But she's the type to go out of her way to torment those she deems "unwelcome," whether or not she owns the place. I'm just thanking whatever god is listening that we're not twins. That would be insufferable.

"Has she been properly trained in etiquette?"

My eyes flicker over to the scary old lady. She's fixed me with an icy gaze that sends a shiver down my spine. Everything inside me is screaming to look away, but for some reason I can't seem to obey the impulse. Her eye twitches slightly in response to the silence coming from mother.

"Obviously not," she answers herself.

She removes her gaze from me, and I feel myself release the breath that was hiding down my throat from her. I try to focus on anything other than her, and my mind almost immediately jumps to the prickles running up and down my legs from sitting in such an awkward position. I dare to think I'd move, if I also thought the old bag wasn't watching me from the corner of her eye.

"So we're in agreement, she'll be residing in the second estate."

The tension begins to leave my shoulders as I watch the old bag. Relief floods through me in waves, but mother doesn't seem to share my feelings. She gets even more uptight.

"With Tamaki?"

My head snaps up on its own accord. I don't know how it's possible, but the old bag's face hardens even more at the mention of my soon-to be-stepbrother. Which confuses me more than a bit. Isn't that her grandson? Does that mean they're estranged? Is she lumping me with him right from the get go? Does this mean it's pointless for me to even _try _to get on her good side?

"I'm sure they'll make fine company for each other," the old bag says coldly.

Great.

"You're dismissed. Be ready to move in later today."

She scoffs as I blink owlishly at her. Mother relays the instructions in English, and I give a curt nod before standing on numb legs and making the most dignified exit I can manage. Mother gives a quick apology and follows close behind me.

"Slow down!" she calls out to me.

But I don't stop until I'm safely down the hall and around the corner. When mother catches me she gives me a look that might have made me break down in tears if I had been a few years younger. She takes in my heaving chest and gives a satisfied smirk, knowing she now has some means of keeping me in line.

"If you're going to be living here you're going to need to learn to show some respect to your elders!" she scolds under her breath.

"Well obviously I'm _not_ going to be living here," I respond. "It's been a grand total of four hours and I've already been kicked out. I think that's a personal best."

"You have not been kicked out," Mother sighs in frustration. "Just think of it as _bonding_. The wedding is in less than a week and you know next to nothing about your new stepbrother."

"That was a choice," I spit back. "I didn't want to know. I never thought I'd _need_ to know! I thought we agreed when you left that I would stay out of your life and you would stay out of mine!"

Hurt flashes through mother's eyes, and I almost feel a bit guilty. But then I remember that I wouldn't have had to say it if she had just left me in America. If I'm miserable she can deal with a little hurt.

"I trust you haven't unpacked anything?"

Ice lingers in her voice as she begins the trek back to the room she dropped me in a few hours earlier.

I didn't, but I don't voice it. Silence blankets the air around us as she leads me through the maze of the manor house. I drag my feet on the floor in attempt to annoy her; that always got to her when I was younger. But surprisingly, she doesn't take the bait like she used to. I guess I'm not the only one who's changed over these years.

I'm even more surprised when we turn the last corner and the blonde idiot is waiting outside. He straightens up from his position of leaning on the wall, and walks up to my mother.

"The car is out front and ready to go. It would be a shame to make a double trip."

Mother says nothing, and I can almost see something like sadness in his violet eyes. But it's fleeting, and when he looks around mother's shoulder and catches sight of me, he has that idiotic smile back in place as if it never left.

"Are you ready?" he asks.

I give him a nod and walk around mother, clutching the strap of my backpack tightly. He waves goodbye to my mother and begins walking down the hall. His legs are long, and it's an effort to keep up, and he seems to notice. He slows his stride and we fall into step beside each other. He doesn't attempt to talk to me either, which is just fine for me, but somehow also manages to feel unnatural.

Which one is the boy who will become my stepbrother? The bright bubbly idiot that picked me up at the airport or this expert mood-reader?

We come down to the main entryway, and Mother and the man who is to be my stepfather stand at the door. I watch them as we descend the staircase. Mother clenches her hands tightly in front of her as we approach, and my stepfather-to-be clears his throat and takes out a thick envelope from under his arm.

He holds it out to me as we approach.

"This has all your school information in it," he explains in thickly accented English.

I nod and take it wordlessly. Even though I want nothing more than to leave, something possesses me to open the envelope flap and pull out the contents. Mother gives a sigh as I leaf though the documents before coming across a small student handbook. A small card is sticking up from the center, and I pull it out to see it's a template for my new student ID. I pull it out and scan it quickly before immediately bristling.

"What is this?" I demand as I shove the ID in mother's face.

"Your school ID," Mother replies curtly.

"Why is it already filled out?" I ask.

"We simply saved you the trouble of filling it out yourself," she sighs. "Now you can focus on more important things. We put sticky notes on all the places you need to sign so just look through it when you get to the estate."

"_Save me trouble_?" I sputter. "I can hardly read half of this, but I _know _that's not my name!"

"That's the name you'll be using starting Monday," she replies, making it clear that this isn't an option.

"What's wrong with the one I have now?!" I spit back.

"We're just trying to make this easier on you dear," the soon-to-be stepfather chimes in. "To make the whole assimilation process less intimidating."

I send him a withering look before refocusing on my mother.

"What _else_ are you going to take away from me?!"

My voice comes out shrill. Mother just looks down at me, her voice coming out way too even for my liking.

"I'm not taking anything," she replies. "That's your middle name you know. How else do you think your father was able to convince me to give you an English one? Just because we've never used it before doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

"What's the hold up here?"

I glance up to see the old bag glaring down from the top of the staircase.

"Nothing Grandmother, we were just leaving," the blonde idiot replies quickly as he places an arm over my shoulder and promptly steers me out the door.

The paper crinkles in my hand as I grip it tightly in my rage. Once the door shuts behind us I move to shrug the idiot's arm off me, but he's surprisingly strong. He keeps me cadged until we reach the car waiting just beyond the front gate.

"Get in," he quickly commands, giving me a not to gentle shove into the back seat.

I almost laugh as I glance up to see Sakurako running down the front entryway. She waves down to us, and I can vaguely tell she's shouting something about waiting up, but the idiot just jumps in behind me and slams the door shut before yelling at the driver to step on it. The driver obeys, and we're halfway down the street as Sakurako makes it to the sidewalk.

"I take it you really don't like my sister."

We both seem surprised that I chose to speak first. But the idiot just lets out a short laugh as he leans back into his seat.

"She doesn't seem to be respecting our new _family_ situation," he replies.

"Um…ewww," I reply as I lean back in my own seat and tuck my legs under me.

"She's not very subtle with her affections," he continues.

"Yeah well, Sakurako has never been very subtle," I sigh as I glance over at him. "Good to know I'm not going to suffer alone here."

He glances back to me; his eyes are back to their strange intensity. I can practically see his thoughts in them and I glance away, not wanting to be on the receiving end of his pity.

"At least we have a sanctuary away from all that," he replies softly. "The Suoh second estate is on the other side of the-"

"I'll be even farther away soon."

I never meant that to be said aloud, and the idiot's look softens to a point where I almost become angry.

"What do you expect will happen?"

"My father will figure something out," I reply as I focus on the scenery on the other side of the window. "He'll throw his money around I'll be back in the States in no time."

The reflection in the window presses his lips together. He doesn't say anything else for the rest of the ride.

**XXX**

My room in the estate is bland. It has no personality whatsoever. I'd even go so far as to say they stuck me in a guest room. And though this single room is probably twice the size of my hotel suite, the open emptiness is suffocating.

The driver carried my bags in and dumps them unceremoniously at the foot of my bed. He gives me a short half bow before dismissing himself.

Lucky for me, the lock on this door is on the inside. I strip off my boots and onesie as I pace back to the bed, suddenly feeling the need to feel air against my skin. My toes curl into the square of carpet and I glance around the room. I see a smaller door on the other side of the room and feel the sudden urge to wash away all the dirty looks I've received since I got here.

I grab the suitcase that has all my bathroom supplies in it and run for it. My hands shake as they sort through all my stuff and eventually just give up. I end up sitting under the shower head watching the hot water strip the pink from my hair.

Stick it out. I need to stick it out. Dad will come through for me. He always has when it really mattered.

**XXX**

The next two days are gone in a blur. Mother dropped in on one of the two, and what resulted from that was a whirlwind of pink lace dresses and the vague understanding that I'm now expected to be a part of the wedding. She fusses over the state of my hair, twisting and braiding and curling in a desperate attempt to make the style look elegant.

"It needs to be cut," she murmurs to herself as she fiddles with some hairpins.

I snatch the lock of hair back from her. Her eyes narrow

"You realize that your new school won't allow this," she says as she pinches a lock of now pale pink hair with the tips of her fingers. "It needs to be gone by Monday."

I glare at her, but she just continues to poke and prod me with pins.

When she leaves that night, she also leaves an ugly yellow dress on my bed with a short note explaining that the rest of my uniform is in my closet. As I give the dress a once over, I suppose there would have been a time when I considered it a princess dress and would want to wear it. But now I'm even more unenthusiastic about going to school.

Walking over to the desk on the other end of the room I glance back down at my student ID template. There's a note stuck to the back, reminding me that I need to stop in at the administrative office to take my photo first thing Monday morning.

A knock on the door announces dinner, so I throw the paper aback down on the desk. I open the door a bit, and the butler looks down on me through the crack.

"Will you be dining in you room again Miss?" he asks.

"Yes," I reply as I go to close the door again.

"Another minute of your time Miss," he says as he sticks the toe of his shoe in the gap between the door and the frame. "You mother has asked me to deliver this to you."

He hands me my phone back. Relief floods through me and I feel better for the first time in days. At least now I can contact Tia and find out how Dad's planning on getting me back home.

"And your mother has a stylist coming over in an hour's time to fix your hair."

I glance back up at him, looking for any indication that he is joking. However, I seem to have no such luck. The butler then reveals that he already had a food trolley waiting outside, and wheels it through the doorway. I step back as he wheels the trolley to the small table by the windows.

"Enjoy Miss," he says stiffly as he places the food on my table. "I'll excuse myself now."

Slumping down in my seat, I swipe my password into the lock screen and head for my last text with Tia. My thumb freezes just above the screen as I notice my settings have been changed. Everything is in Japanese, and I can't read half of it. Which reminds me…I glance back over to my desk and look at the textbooks lined up neatly at the corner.

How am I going to be able to keep up in class?

A humorless laugh bubbles up in me. Maybe that's how I'll do it. I'll flunk out and mother will be so embarrassed she'll _have_ to send me back.

I swipe the contact and my phone rings out. It happens another three times and all I can assume is that Tia is still grounded. Giving one last hopeless stare at my keyboard I throw the phone onto my bed.

_Just stick it out._

**XXX**

The woman mother brought in to 'fix' my hair is entirely too happy for me to even try to be polite. As she sets up in the bathroom she chatters happily about anything and everything that comes to her mind. I stand ridged in the doorway as she beacons me over.

"So your mother says she wanted a more respectable style, and I can see what she meant. When was the last time you got a trim?" she asks as she touches the tips of my bangs, which are now almost chin length.

"A while."

"So…" she trails off. "Your mother suggested a Hime cut."

My head snaps up and I fix her with the most intimidating look I can manage. If I'm going to be forced to be part of Mother's high society I guess it's time to start acting like it. I allow myself to indulge in a small feeling of pride as the hairdresser shivers under my narrowed eyes.

"You will do nothing more than fix my bangs and trim an inch off the rest."

"B-but your mother…" she trails off.

"Let me worry about that," I command.

She gives a timid nod and gets to work. I offer no other information so she just does her best to get me to cooperate with her as she washes my hair, and I keep a close eye on everything she puts into it. She seems to begin to realize that I really don't want her here, much less walking towards me with a bottle of color remover or a pair of shears in her hands.

When she's done, my bangs have been leveled and are just brushing my eyebrows, and the rest of my hair is waving nicely at the middle of my back. She looks anxious as she waits for my approval. I give it in the form of a small nod. Her shoulders sag in relief and scrambles to clean up as soon as I dismiss her.

**XXX**

I wake up before my alarm goes off in the morning, feeling wide awake even though my clock tells me I slept for whopping four hours. It seems that I've also surprised the maid sent to give me a wakeup call. Or at least she wasn't expecting me to be cooperative in waking up. She tells me that breakfast will be read soon, and that I will no longer be allowed to eat meals in my room. If I want to eat I have to do it down in the dining room.

She dismisses herself and I get ready slowly.

My hair still has some pre-styled curl from last night, so I just comb it out and part my bangs. I give one last glare as I swallow my pride and slip into the uniform dress. Adjusting the collar, I glance at my reflection and do a slow spin to get a full three hundred and sixty degree view. The skirts swish about my legs, and I wonder who designed this. And who gave the green light for the uniform decision.

Even though I know pouting and whining won't get me anywhere, I give myself a moment to wallow in despair before reminding myself that at least the rest of the female population will be suffering alongside me. I grab a pair of velvet burgundy boots and lace them up over my socks and grab all of the paperwork littering my desk and make sure everything is signed before dumping it into my backpack.

I lace up my boots and head down the halls, trying to retrace my steps from the day I was brought here. When I finally make it to the dining room, the blonde idiot is already sitting and finishing up his meal, chaperoned by an elderly lady in a kimono that makes the occasional comment on his table manners.

She looks up as I enter the room, and gives me a short bow.

"Thank you for joining us for breakfast this morning," she says once she's straightened back up. "Although I fear that you've made it down rather late and will be late for your first day of school if you stop to eat now."

I glance at her and shrug. It's not like I'm really feeling up to eating anyways.

"I suggest you take this with you."

She holds out an apple to me. I walk over to her and take it, knowing full well that I'll be bending to my hunger pains by ten if I don't. I tuck it into my bag and glance back up at her, giving a nod of thanks.

"I will see you both for dinner then," she says as she ushers the idiot out of his seat and hands him his book bag. "Master Tamaki, Mistress U-"

"While I may be forced to respond to that name at school, I will not do it here," I cut in. "If you need to call me, I would like you to call me Avery, or else you shall be waiting a long time for any response."

She gives a heavy sigh and looks me straight in the eye.

"This is out of my hands," she replies. "I'm here to help will your assimilation, it would go smoother and faster if you were not _fighting_ me every step of the way."

The idiot tugs on my arm and drags me towards the doorway before I can say anything else to her. He says goodbye to the old lady, Shima, and drags me to the waiting car.

"You can't just talk to Shima like that," he scolds as we sit down in the back. "She's in charge of all the servants in the estate! Don't be surprised if you suddenly find your bathroom without hot water for a week!"

I roll my eyes and slump back in my seat.

"Take this seriously!" he pleads with me. "Shima has been with our family for many years, she knows a thing or two about how to keep unruly children in line."

My eyes flicker up at him and I glare. We spend the rest of the ride in silence.

**XXX**

Not really surprising, but the office refused to make any of the changes I requested to my ID. So now it's official. Avery doesn't exist here. She never has and never will.

I glance from my ID card to the map of campus, looking for class 1C.

Every time I think back to the talk the office official had with me about how the class system works at this school I begin to get angry. Who are these people to decide what my pedigree is? Or that my rank was decreased because of my father. Somehow Sakurako is in class 1B, but we have the exact same parents. It makes no god damn sense.

Somehow it wouldn't surprise me that the reason could be because she came back with mother after the divorce and kissed up to our grandparents. Apparently their fortune from running their beachside resort chain scores them a seventy-five percent on the grading scale while Dad's fortune from his card game winnings ranks him at a mere fifty percent, and puts me barely above the class full of yakuza children.

By the time I walk up to the correct class, there is only fifteen minutes until it ends. I groan and shove the door open to see the teacher setting a globe down on his desk. He glances up at me, before looking at a piece of paper beside the globe.

"Ah," he sighs. "Our new transfer. Please come in."

**XXx Author's Notes xXX**

**Oh, ok….hello. Sorry to disappear like that. But life is now sorted and I've found time to sit down and try my hand at finishing these stories. Yes, that means Open Your Heart as well, in fact, I just did some editing on that. I'm freelance now, so my updates will depend on how much work I'm getting.**

**So….no hard feelings? *peaks out from behind protective barrier* thanks for those of you how kept reading and reviewing, and hopefully I'll see you all soon.**

**Lotsa love, Krystal**


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